


Driftwood

by troi-in-monochrome (amonovalis)



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amonovalis/pseuds/troi-in-monochrome
Summary: [...] when they ask you what your favourite moment is, you will say Her. You will always say Her.





	1. Encounter At Farpoint - Preface I (Beverly)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, sentient cetaceans are a thing on the Enterprise. Source: Rick Sternbach's blueprints (Deck 13, 14) and the technical manual written by Sternbach and Michael Okuda (pg. 44-45). It is also mentioned in “The Perfect Mate”. Of course, we never got to see them nor their environment but the idea itself felt so unique that I couldn't help but use it as a set-piece of sorts. Also, remembering that bit of trivia set this whole writing thing in motion again after what feels like decades.
> 
> This follows canon unless it doesn't. So there is that. ;)  
> Also, this is a slow-burn. Probably as slow as it gets – so, please consider yourself warned.

* * *

  

**Driftwood**

 

-

She is a year ago.  
She is the ache in the empty,  
the first time you changed your mind  
and the last time you were sorry about it.  
She is a city sleeping beside you,  
warm and vast and familiar, streetlights  
yawning and stretching,  
and you have never. You have never.  
You have never loved someone like this.  
She is your first stomach ache.  
Your first panic attack and your  
favorite cold shower.  
A mountain is moving somewhere  
inside of you, and her handprints are all over it.  
Here. Here. Here, you love her.  
In the fractured morning, full of  
too tired and too sad, she is the first  
foot that leaves the bed.  
She is the fight in you, the winning  
and the losing battle  
floating like a shipwreck in your chest.  
When they ask you what your favorite moment is,  
You will say Her.  
You will always say Her.

 

**Caitlyn Siehl** _Her, Her, Her_

-

 

Encounter At Farpoint – Preface I

_(Beverly)_

 

The last time she had looked up from the screen she had returned the waves of goodbyes from her staff members as shifts changed. She had prepared to leave herself but then had got caught up in another article. Looking up now, she blinked in surprise as she noticed the dimmed lights. The clock on the screen told her it was close to 2300 hours already. Beverly rubbed a hand over her face, sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her neck ached and just then her stomach decided to remind her that she had sat here for hours without a break. At least she had let Wesley know that she would be late.

Her eyes lingered on the text on her screen again. It contained the mission reports for what had happened on Farpoint and several medical articles . A passing comment from Tasha Yar had sent her on a quest through the database of Starfleet Medical. And what she had found had left her with more questions than before.

Another sigh and then she turned off the screen.

She got up but hesitated, debating on what to do next. Outside her office she could hear and see her staff moving around, still getting things organised and up and running. It brought back the reality of the situation – that she was on the Enterprise. That she was Chief Medical Officer on Starfleet's flagship. That she would make a home here with Wesley for the foreseeable future. That some ghosts of the past had followed her even into the unknown vastness of space. A pang of mixed emotions made themselves known before she shoved them back where she had kept them all those years – despite whatever unresolved issue they may had between them, she knew that Jean-Luc and she could work together. Could be friends again.

Drumming fingertips on the smooth surface of her desk, she took a deep breath, released it slowly. Right now, she wanted to find answers to different questions.

“Computer...location of Counsellor Troi?” If she was in her quarters it was probably safe to assume that she was asleep and all this could – had to - wait until tomorrow but as ship counsellor and in order to accommodate the different shift schedules of the crew she just might -

“Counsellor Troi is on deck thirteen, navigation lab.”

Beverly lifted her brows in confused surprise. Not really what she had expected but it meant that Troi was still awake and even though it was late, she might actually get to talk to her. Her hand hovered over the comm-badge before she dropped it slowly again.

Making up her mind, she stepped out of her office, called a brief goodbye to her staff and stepped out into the dimmed light of the corridor. She hesitated a brief moment before she shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and turned for the next turbolift.

XXXXXXXXXX

There was something oddly calming about walking through the half-lit corridors. The soft sigh of the carpet that accompanied each step, the constant albeit barely detectable hum of the engines. If she didn't know better she could almost pretend to be alone on the ship. A thought which was as eerily terrifying as it was exciting.

She rounded another corner on deck thirteen and stopped to check her whereabouts on one of the wall panels. Although she had seen plans of the Enterprise – mostly because it was all Wesley had been studying for what felt weeks after she told him where they would be staying next – naturally she had been most interested in the layout of her department.

She passed the cargo bays so the navigation lab had to be straight ahead. Continuing her walk she met only one other officer who nodded silently at her. Her eyes traced over the door tags until she found the right one. The soft hiss as the doors opened sounded too loud in the quiet of the corridor and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkened room ahead of her.

Beverly looked around and shook her head in amazed disbelief. Technically, she understood that the Enterprise was huge and everything seemed to be bigger and more spacious but this - turning around she marvelled at the high walls and ceilings; and she probably only saw half of it due to the dimmed lights.

Ahead of her in the next room there seemed to be more light and she could hear water sloshing against a surface and as the doors closed behind her the scent of something very reminiscent of the ocean became stronger. Looking around, she stepped out onto a metal walkway that spanned the entire width of what must have been one of the largest water tanks she had ever seen. It seemed to stretch on forever to both sides and there were walkways along the walls surrounding the tank as well. The walls on the inside of the tank were lined with computer panels and screens and for a moment she thought she saw something moving. She vaguely remembered Wesley mentioning something about holodeck technology that had been used in the construction of the tanks to provide as much comfort as possible to the cetaceans that had volunteered. Looking through the metal mesh under her feet, she guessed that she stood close to five metres above the waterline that moved and sparkled underneath her – making her dizzy for a moment.

She looked up again and there, close to the middle of the walkway that stretched to the other side of the tank, she saw Troi.

Just looking at her one would never think her alien – if it weren't for her black eyes, and her accented voice. Beverly had found herself immediately liking the smaller woman who seemed to be so open and approachable. Whose quiet beauty could have been intimidating – and also distracting, considering some of the reactions she had noticed over the last few days – but her genuine smile, and her warm, gentle energy somehow offset all that.

The Betazoid stood leaning against the railing of the walkway, her arms crossed on top of it. She had changed out of her uniform into a loose fitting, pale pink outfit and had gathered her dark hair into a loose knot at the back of her head, strands of dark curls escaping haphazardly. Beverly wasn't sure but it seemed as if she had her eyes closed and fairly everything about her posture shouted fatigue.

It was also fairly obvious that she had come here to be alone.

Worrying her lower lip for a moment, Beverly debated whether or not to approach and had almost decided on leaving, when Deanna turned and looked at her, tilting her head slightly. It was difficult to read the expression on her face but Beverly lifted a hand and waved briefly, slowly stepping closer. Her steps on the metal echoed through the quiet of the large room. Underneath her she could see a massive shadow moving through the water and from somewhere further away she heard splashing and faintly high-pitched noises.

“I was just taking a stroll around the ship. You know, walking off the day.” She somehow managed an engaging as well as apologetic smile as she didn't even try to be convincing. Mostly because she assumed that Deanna would be able to tell anyway. Wouldn't she? Another one of those questions.

Beverly took a few more steps closer, feeling even more like an intruder than before although Deanna had smiled back.

“We don't have creatures like that on Betazed.“ It was like Deanna simply continued a conversation as she turned away again and her eyes followed the calm, slow movements of the cetacean underneath them. One of the Bottlenose dolphins flashed by, leaped out of the water only the dive back in with a loud splash – disturbing the calm of the tank. Beverly picked up a soft, delighted laugh from the woman next to her.

“It annoyed him.“ Answering the unvoiced question and indicating the whale, Deanna rested her cheek on her arm, looking at the other woman again. A gentle smile shaped her lips - yet it didn't quite manage to dispel the obvious weariness in her black eyes. Eyes that one might actually consider unsettling were it not for the warmth and gentle sparkle dancing within.

Beverly answered the smile with one of her own and decided not to disturb the moment by asking the obvious question. She leaned against the railing and looked down into the massive tank. The shadow of one of the Takaya's whales drifted through the clear water. The sound of the waves moving against the walls mingled with the soft hum of the ship's engines. Sparkles of light reflected off the screens, throwing a play of colours reminiscent of a kaleidoscope against the walls and ceiling. It was pretty but it didn't distract her from feeling concerned for her colleague.

She could feel Deanna's gaze on her as she ran her hands through her hair. Pulling it away from her neck, she exhaled loudly. Another soft laugh next to her and Beverly shrugged. “I can't help it. It's...I feel very much like a fish out of water here, to be honest. There aren't many Betazoids in Starfleet, let alone empaths, so the medical database is rather lacking besides the basics. I am familiar with musculature, bone structure and nervous system and I remember reading an article on chemical variations of Betazoid brain activity but -” She frowned and fell silent. Not liking just how clinical her voice had got. But Deanna kept smiling at her – again startling Beverly with that soft, gentle warmth that seemed to emanate off her. “Yar mentioned in her report that you were in severe pain back on Deneb IV.” The smile faltered ever so slightly. “You didn't come to see me and I'm...I just want to make sure you're okay, and I wanted to see if there is anything I can do to help.”

A blow of air broke the water surface underneath them as the cetacean drifted closer again, still maintaining his unhurried movements.

“I will be fine.” A pause as Deanna looked at her for a long, silent moment and she seemed to contemplate something. She made a vague hand gesture that somehow reached beyond the confines of the navigation lab. “This is still very...” She seemed to look for the right word. “...overwhelming for me.”

“Overwhelming?”

Deanna turned her gaze back to the whale that just then surfaced again. Turning slightly on his right side, his left fin extended out of the water almost as if greeting them. Slowly he descended back under water and continued his slow swim around the tank.

“He is very calm.” The off-hand comment confused Beverly further but she stopped herself from saying anything as dark eyes turned towards her again. The sparkles of colour were reflected in them, Beverly noticed. “So calm. Usually, large creatures tend to have very chaotic, intense minds and emotions. It’s an onslaught of impressions that is very…very hard to withstand. It eclipses any of my emotions and to separate myself from them – to centre myself within my own mind takes a lot of effort and energy.”

Beverly leaned a little closer. Intrigued, somewhat confused by this information and just as concerned if not more so as before.

“What happened on Deneb IV - the lifeform we encountered; its pain and loneliness, its happiness, the excitement and anxiety of the crew on their first mission…it’s all like one giant creature and its emotions are difficult for me to separate from.” Deanna moved her hand in an almost helpless gesture even though her soft voice didn't falter. “I haven’t been able to meditate properly since I arrived on the Enterprise.” She didn’t turn away and this time allowed the weariness to show on her face.

Taking another step towards her, Beverly lay a hand on her back. “Being around them helps?” She pointed to the whale whose shadow moved slowly through the water.

A slight shrug and an almost sheepish smile. “I don’t know.” But then dark brows wrinkled and Deanna nodded slowly. “No, I do know. It does. If I focus entirely on him, I can anchor myself to his calmness. It drowns out everything else. Makes it…bearable. Otherwise I – “ She turned her gaze away again. “I get headaches.”

“Is there anything I can do?” The question got Beverly another warm, genuine smile.

“I don’t think so.” Deanna seemed to think about this for a moment but shook her head again. “I just need to find a way to anchor myself enough to meditate and to build up my shields. Get used to this giant creature that is the Enterprise.” She straightened up a little and Beverly dropped her hand. “As with most things, it just takes time.”

Beverly felt herself frowning before she could stop it. Searching black eyes, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that Deanna hadn't told her everything. She watched the smaller woman wrap her arms around herself as if cold.

“I guess, a sedative...even a mild one...would be kind of counterproductive, then?”

“Well, it would help me sleep but it also makes me dizzy and I tend to get nauseous when getting sedatives.”

That piqued Beverly's interest. “Maybe it has to do with your hybrid-biochemistry.” She felt her concern shift to scientific curiosity and noticed a small smile play on Deanna's lips. “Tell you what...I am not pretending to fully understand what you are going through but I also have no intention of letting a fellow officer suffer in silence.” She lifted a hand to stall Deanna's response. “Come see me tomorrow, please. I'd like to give you a full examination and compare it to the data I have on file. Maybe we can determine some parameters on which to identify divergences that I'd need to act on. Maybe we find the right dosage and composition for a sedative for you, as well.”

It was difficult to read the expression on Deanna's face but she was still smiling – in fact the smile blossomed into something much brighter and then she nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”

“Good.” Having set a course of action had lifted her spirit considerably and Beverly released a relieved breath. Only to then burrow her hands in her coat pockets in an almost adolescent gesture of chagrin. “And Deanna...I am sorry for intruding like this.“

A light-hearted laugh and Deanna reached out to briefly rub her upper arm. “I appreciate the concern. Really. I should have come talk to you in the first place, so...”

They smiled at each other and Beverly felt herself relax. She had always found it difficult to make friends. But right now she felt that she had actually met someone she could be friends with. Easily.

Prompting another promise that Deanna would come see her first thing in the morning, she turned for the exit of the navigation lab. And so she missed the way the Betazoid leaned back against the railing, massaging her temples – missed how the cetacean drifted closer again and came to rest just underneath the walkway where Troi stood – missed how the lab intercom came to life with a faint click – and missed the whale singing a soft, gentle song.

It would also take quite some time for her to learn just how well Deanna hid pain.

 

 

 


	2. Encounter At Farpoint - Preface II (Deanna)

_Waves washing onshore. Trickle of water and grains of sand whispering in defeat as they are swept back into liquid infinity._  
  
A soft breath. Small hands trembling ever so softly as they brushed through thick, dark curls. That’s how one of her instructors had once described it. The ever-present emotions of people around them. Waves that lapped against their minds. Always…and inevitably taking a part of them away. Like grains of sand.  
  
Another breath.  
  
 _One has to find a way to become centred onshore. To resist the pull of the waves._  
  
It had been so - so difficult at first. How easily she had drowned. Again and again. Enveloped by emotions she had no control over. But it had become easier, eventually. Slowly, she had found a way to build that wall her instructor had talked about. Yet still, even after all those years she wasn’t able to fully block them out.   
  
_If one can’t withstand…then let yourself float within the waves. Trust them to bring you back onshore._  
  
So she had learned to float within. The soft whisper of emotional waves a constant in her mind. Background music she had learned to accept. Ignore if necessary. She had become so accustomed to them that at those few, rare moments when she didn’t feel them…she actually missed them.  
  
Another breath.  
  
Slowly - too slowly this time, she was returned to shore. The tension, anxiety, and excitement on board were still present. Painful prickles of constant sensations against her mind. They made it difficult for her to concentrate on anything let alone meditate to separate herself from them. Added to all that were the remnants of what she had sensed from the lifeform on Deneb IV. All its pain, all its loneliness still echoing through her mind.   
  
Dark eyes lifted and she looked at the stars floating past her windows. She had spent time on ships before but never with such a large crew. A thousand individuals in such close proximity had been almost impossible to block at first. She’d been swept away instantly. The first night she had not been able to sleep. She had spent most of the time meditating - trying to find her centre. En-root herself onshore.   
  
During those first few days on board the Enterprise there had been many times when she had wondered if she’d made the right choice. She was still trying to get familiar enough with most of the minds to ignore them at the best of times…filter them enough not to disturb her too much on less good times.  
  
But the appearance of Q and the mystery of Farpoint - she closed her eyes. Within seconds her ocean had erupted into a violent storm. Those waves building in height she had no means to withstand.  
  
So she had surrendered.

Had helped where she was needed. Had filed her reports. And had clung to the hope that her ocean would bring her back safely onshore.  
  
Of course, she could ask Doctor Crusher for a sedative. But, even though it would help her to at least sleep, it would also leave her feeling outside of her mind. Outside herself. She had never been able to decide which would be the greater evil. Losing herself in that ocean of emotions or to be left stranded within painful silence. Not to mention that her body tended to react quite strongly to most medication.  
  
Another long, slow breath.   
  
Black eyes blinked open as underneath the turmoil that made her head ache a familiar tickle of worry and warmth flickered across her conscious mind.  
  
A soft chime at her door announced a visitor.  
  
She sat forward, burrowing her face in her hands. The heels of her hands dug into her eyes as the familiar textures of emotions easily…so easily slipped past whatever shields she had been able to keep up. It felt like needle pins racing across her mind.   
  
Deanna felt torn between sending him away and admitting him in. Most likely he wouldn’t leave anyway, his genuine concern almost palpable to her. Letting him in would mean facing him alone since the last time they had seen each other all those years ago. In her current state she wasn’t sure if she was able to handle it.  
  
Another chime at the door.   
  
“Come in.” Somehow she managed to keep her voice even.   
  
The doors hissed open and a pair of worried blue eyes settled on her. “Counsellor?”  
  
Somewhere inside she found a smile and waved him inside. “Commander.”  
  
Will answered with a hesitant smile of his own and took the few steps that brought him to where she sat. He tilted his head and studied her for a brief, silent moment.  
  
“Okay?” He took the seat opposite her. His eyes questioning her as he hovered somewhere between genuine concern and something that felt like nostalgia.  
  
She wanted to laugh. Or maybe she wanted to cry. Within the cacophony of emotions it was difficult to be sure which were her own. But having him here, looking at him, sensing him was almost too much. Folding her hands to hide their shaking, she nodded slowly.  
  
“I will be, yes.” If she repeated this often enough, it would have to come true. Wouldn’t it?  
  
Will nodded, his concern changing in texture but not dissipating entirely. “The captain has asked all senior officers to report for a staff meeting at 1400. Is that all right for you? Maybe Beverly…”  
  
She stopped him with a brief gesture. “I am fine, Will. I just…” A soft inhale. “I just need a moment to centre myself. The crew is still anxious. I need time to distance myself.”  
  
He leaned forward and after a moment of hesitance reached for one of her hands. She almost pulled away. To have him this close already chipped away at any resolve she had settled on when taking the posting on the Enterprise.  
  
But…  
  
As his hand closed around hers a strong wave of familiar warmth engulfed her for a long, soothing moment. She closed her eyes and allowed it to wash over her - dulling anything else to a whisper barely noticeable. If only briefly.  
  
“…thank you” She squeezed his hand, probably holding it too tightly but right at this moment she didn’t care. For the first time in days she felt like herself again.  
  
“You’re welcome, Counsellor.” Even if she hadn’t felt it in the shift and change of his emotions, she heard the smile in his voice. A soft touch on the top of her head. Rustle of clothes as he got up. The soft hiss as the doors opened and closed as he left.  
  
XXXXXXXXXX  
  
She wasn't quite sure how she had ended up here. All she knew was that she hadn't been able to relax enough to meditate let alone fall asleep. That the lingering headache of the last few days had got worse – that any interaction with others had started to wear down her shields more and more.

So she'd been wandering around the corridors of various decks for a long time when suddenly she had sensed something that was utterly unique and unknown to her. And had then found herself staring into a water tank and at a creature she had never seen before.

But more importantly had found her mind being flooded with such an intense flow of calm and contentment that it had immediately eased her headache. There was nothing intrusive, uncontrolled or overpowering about what she sensed from the cetacean. The sheer relief that had coursed through her as a result made her light-headed and she leaned against the railing, feeling her heartbeat slow.

The creature swam slowly closer. Turning slightly, small, dark eyes looked at her and the calmness she sensed changed slightly in texture. Gained more depth and, oddly, something that felt like a greeting. Something addressing her specifically.

Time passed unnoticed as she allowed herself to float within the creature's emotions. Allowed herself to be grounded.

She sensed Beverly before the door to the lab opened. Her concern had been too directed on her to be ignored. Tiny, insistent needle pricks on her mind. And as so often with non-telepath or non-empath throughout their talk she felt the familiar frustration of just how limiting Standard was when it came to expressing herself.

But...

She felt surprisingly at ease talking with Beverly. The taller woman didn't feel wary of her or even unsettled by the idea that she was aware of how the other woman felt at any time – rather, she was genuinely interested in understanding Deanna. Underneath carefully constructed layers of emotions, which Beverly clearly used as her own form of protection, she sensed the dulled but still very present remnants of pain, anguish, loss. Interestingly, one of them had the same hue she had felt in Picard.

She was hesitant about taking sedatives or any form of medication that would impair her senses but Beverly's suggestion was very tempting. The prospect of finding something that would allow her to make it through periods of heightened stress on board without having to endure days of being in pain until her mind had found a way to adjust was more than welcome. It also distracted Beverly and eased her concern. Which in turn, eased the insistent needle pricks against her mind.

How could she explain that as much as she appreciated the concern – it only added to the pain she already felt?

Yet, there was something very engaging about Beverly. She couldn't quite distinguish what it was but it felt...like something vaguely remembered from a long time ago.

Watching her leave, Deanna then leaned back against the railing. She took several deep breaths, massaging her temples in an attempt to get rid of the headache. The cetacean move closer again, the texture of his emotions personal now. Clearly identifying her and she simply surrendered herself to it. Floating in a blissful state of profound, primal calmness.

It would take time, yes. But she would be fine.

 


	3. Haven

“Would you have actually gone through with it?”

Beverly adjusted another setting on the biobed, trying to match the parameters with their last examination and then looked at Deanna again. The question had been bothering her for days now but she hadn't been sure how to approach the topic without seeming too intrusively curious about it – yet, from the little smile that every so often tugged at Deanna's lips, she assumed that her friend was well aware of it. She somehow knew that she didn't even have to mention Wyatt Miller or what had transpired a week ago to explain her question.

This was such an intriguing aspect of their friendship – or really, any relationship Deanna had with others on board. It didn't happen often but in those rare instances when she averted her eyes or couldn't hide the smile or frown quite fast enough, it was apparent that the Betazoid was aware of far more than she let on. And even when it was just the two of them, Deanna tended to guard her reactions to whatever she most certainly had to sense. Beverly couldn't even begin to guess what that had to be like.

Deanna lay still on the biobed, with her hands folded on her stomach, her breathing slow and rhythmic. As they were off duty she had her hair loose and right now it framed her gentle, relaxed features in a halo of dark curls. But she was silent for such a long time that Beverly wondered if she was going to answer at all. She turned to the wall panel to increase the simulated intake of the first try of sedative when she heard a slow exhale.

“Yes.”

Beverly stopped what she was doing and turned around again. Frowning and not quite able to suppress the flicker of disbelief. By the way Deanna sighed and then slowly sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the biobed, to look at her with a similar frown, she assumed that the Betazoid had picked up on it easily enough.

“But why? It clearly wasn't what you wanted. I mean...arranged marriages...how archaic is this?” She didn't mean to sound that upset but the whole notion seemed so – alien.

“From a human perspective it probably is, yes.” Deanna brushed the mass of dark curls to one side and looked down at her feet, deep in thought for a moment. The soft light of the overhead lighting outlined her in profile, tracing along features acutely classical in proportion.

“You are half-human.” Beverly regretted the somewhat indignant connotation but Deanna merely looked up at her again, smiling faintly.

“Genetically, yes. But I was raised on Betazed. I was raised a daughter of the Fifth House...with every privilege and responsibility that entails. Traditions are a very important part of Betazoid culture. They define almost every aspect of our every-day life. They define boundaries where non exist in a culture of telepaths and empaths. The Fifth House has been built on and endured due to these traditions.” Her voice was soft, her accent more noticeable which usually indicated that she was quite tired. Yet, there was no hint of defence in the way she spoke – she seemed to merely state a fact.

And for some odd reason Beverly felt herself get angry. “You didn't even have a choice in the matter!”

Deanna tilted her head ever so lightly. Black eyes looked at her – not quite imploring but rather confused as dark brows wrinkled into a frown. “I had.” A brief pause as though she was looking for words. “I made the choice to honour a tradition as old as our house, my family.”

Beverly started to respond only to stop herself and take a deep breath. She couldn't quite say why this was upsetting her as much as it did. “You are seriously telling me that you regret that this didn't happen as planned?”

Deanna looked at her for a long silent moment, the faint smile turning into something almost sad before she shook her head slowly. It was difficult to say if she was shaking her head no to the question or at Beverly for asking. Collecting her hair with both hands, she gathered thick curls into a loose knot at the back of her head in quick, efficient moves.

“I don't regret what has happened. Wyatt would not have been happy with me. I would not have been happy with him.” Dropping her arms, she looked at Beverly with a calm, serious expression and somehow it felt like she meant to say more but she pushed herself off the biobed instead. “It's been a long day...do you mind if we continue with the examination some other time?”

Beverly felt bad at once and reached out to her friend. “Deanna, I'm sorry...I didn't mean...”

A warm smile. “Yes, you did.” A small hand squeezing hers gently. “And I do understand.”

Somehow that didn't make her feel better. But another brief squeeze and Deanna turned to leave.

Beverly stood next to the biobed for some time even after Deanna had left. Her hand playing absent-mindedly with a tricorder and then she exhaled slowly. Turning off the scanner., she returned to her office and dropped down into her chair, still berating herself.

Of course she knew better than to impose human principles on alien cultures but the problem was – so much about Deanna seemed not alien. Unless she referred to her abilities or muttered something to herself in her native language...or unless her mother showed up and announced the execution of some long-time marriage arrangement.

A frustrated sigh. She stared at her reflection on the computer screen for a long time before she slowly straightened up. An idea forming in her head.

“Computer...search request...” The screen hummed to life, the colorful display waiting for input. She hesitated only for moment. “Houses, Betazed, Fifth House of Betazed.”

XXXXXXXXXX

Deanna nestled deeper into the corner of the sofa and turned her gaze to the windows again. Closing her hands around a cup of tea, she took a deep breath of the heavily scented steam rising from the hot liquid.

They were in-between missions and just on their way to meet with the Jarada in another attempt to establish a diplomatic relationship with them. It allowed the crew some time to just relax and it was reflected in the calm, almost lazy brush of emotional waves against her mind. Here and there she was aware of peaks of emotions. A lover's quarrel, a bout of anxiety too fuzzy to fully grasp what about and...

She looked towards her door, smiling slightly at what she sensed beyond.

_Deanna, do you really want to go through with this?_

How odd that Beverly had chosen almost the exact same words Wyatt had. Yet, how different their motivation had been for asking. But both had found it hard to fully understand why she had said yes. Their response had been so distinctively human - it was a confusing, intense mixture of emotions. Somewhere between disbelief, hesitance, regret, anger, joy, guilt.

As with most humans it was difficult to know how or rather when to address what she sensed from them. More often than not humans refused to acknowledge their feelings directly and no matter how obvious it was how they felt, they would act completely opposite to that.

Coming from a culture where honesty and straight-forwardness was not necessarily a choice but the only option, it had taken some time for her to find the right balance of addressing what she sensed and giving people the time they needed to bring it up themselves. It was easier from a professional point of view but less so with people she considered friends.

Nevertheless - Beverly pacing outside her quarters, building up the nerve to announce her presence what most likely not one of those moments where she would have to restrain herself. She got up and opened the doors with a light touch on the panel. Just in time to catch Beverly jump in surprise right in front of her.

“I thought, I might save you the trouble of ringing the doorbell.” Deanna winked as Beverly tried to hide the faint blush creeping up her neck.

But she got back her bravado quickly enough and smirked. “That's very thoughtful of you, Counsellor.” Still, her emotions were in a peculiar state of turmoil. Deanna was aware of them like one might be of small insects. Buzzing back and forth, back and forth.

She waved Beverly in and indicating the sofa, offered her a cup of the tea she made earlier. They sat opposite each other for a silent moment. She was about to address what she sensed when Beverly broke the silence.

“So, basically...you are royalty?”

Deanna blinked in surprise for a moment at the sudden outburst before laughing softly and setting down her cup. She brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear as she leaned back and shrugged.

“That's a big word and it doesn't really describe what the Houses are. It's difficult to put into words, actually as Betazoid history is usually deeply infused with accompanying emotions and thoughts.”

Her friend shook her head and even held up a hand to stop her, obviously not willing to get distracted. Determination, curiosity as well as an underlying confusion skirted across her mind's shields.

“What your mother said at the reception...being the heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx...that weren't just platitudes. I looked it up. They are in fact the oldest known artefacts of Betazoid culture. Through all ages they have identified the most influential, prominent family. Basically, most of Betazed's ruling body as well as religious leaders are members of the Fifth house. If there ever was such a thing as aristocracy - your family is it.”

Beverly looked at her with some astonishment which was as obvious on her face as it was in the crash of emotion against her mind.

Deanna took a slow sip from her tea to somehow postpone her response. She tended to avoid talking about that particular fact of her heritage. In those rare occasions when she had, it had led to the other person's resentment. Nothing they would ever have acknowledged but it had been there. It had changed the way they had interacted with her. And as much as she had trained herself to ignore certain emotional responses – it had hurt.

She was about to respond when the texture of Beverly's emotional state changed from astonishment into genuine affection and understanding. Looking up, Deanna found her smiling.

“That's actually really amazing and you have to tell me everything about this. Are there crowns? Palaces?“ Beverly grinned and the hue of her mood changed significantly. She put down her cup and leaned forward, more serious now. “..also, what you said the other day - I think, I understand what you meant, then. I mean, not fully...don't get me wrong.” A brief chuckle. “It stills irks me but I think I need to remind myself more often that you are not human.” Her voice got more serious, as did the undertone of her emotions. “It is not my place to judge...no matter how much I care for you.”

Deanna tilted her head. Sometimes she wondered if Beverly was aware just how easily she could be read. There was still that carefully constructed layer of emotions that protected a part of her past but overall she rarely tried to hide what she felt. It was one of the most refreshing and endearing qualities about her and their friendship.

“Now...about that 'everybody has to be naked at a Betazoid wedding' thing...” Beverly leaned forward, waggling her eyebrows and Deanna couldn't help but laugh. Looking at her friend with a bright, light-hearted smile. How good it felt to be able to be so open with someone. Like a weight lifting off her that she wasn't even aware had been there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am taking some liberties with the basically non-existent canon world building for Betazoids and their culture. I will elaborate on some of them, eventually - other will be mentioned every now and then.


	4. When The Bough Breaks - (Beverly)

By now he didn't even try to hide the rolling eyes any more. Nor the exasperated sigh. The last few days had got progressively worse as she found herself unable to stop asking where he was going. When he would return. It'd got to the point where they sat at breakfast or dinner in frustrated, annoyed, miserable silence.

And it hurt.

And she felt ridiculous because she knew better.

And yet she couldn't help it.

He stomped around in his room and she heard the sound of clutter as he moved things around. The dull thud of something hitting the carpet. A curse that he just as quickly stifled. When he reappeared, he carried a bunch of pads in one hand.

And she almost...almost asked.

She forced herself to take a deep breath and wrestled a smile on her face instead. Somehow managing to restrain her reaction to simply looking up from the report she had been working on and then to pretend to immerse herself in work again. A hot ball of misery flared inside her stomach.

The soft sound of the carpet yielding under his steps and then he stopped just short of the door. There was a moment of heavy silence.

“I'm heading over to Marshall's.”

How odd that relief can hurt as much as misery. She wondered if the smile on her face looked as wrong as it felt – and apparently it did because his expression turned to chagrin and he stepped closer hesitantly.

Sometimes, when the light hit him just right and when his face held more maturity than it should – he was all Jack. She hated that her eyes filled with tears at the thought alone and she wiped them away with an angry gesture.

“Mum.” His voice cracked on the word and then the pads fell from his hands as he rushed over to her, hugging her tightly.

And then they cried together.

Maybe for the same reasons, maybe for different ones – but they cried together. For the first time in a long time. And he held onto her as tightly as when he had been younger and had been awoken by a nightmare. And she felt terribly heavy and exhilaratingly light at the same time. Her chest hurt, her head hurt but she held on to him for fear he might disappear.

And when they finally found the strength to let go again, they talked. Really talked in what felt like a long time. Maybe for the first time, in a way.

Not about everything, of course. There were doors she wasn't quite ready to open just yet but...it was a start. A step in the right direction. It didn't lift the heavy feeling that somehow had settled inside but it was a step in the right direction. For now.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Hey...”

The soft voice made her jump and out of reflex, but more so out of guilt, she turned off the screen she had been looking at.

Black eyes studied her for a silent moment before Deanna stepped into her office with what seemed like well practised nonchalance. Her hair was still held securely in the tight bun she tended to wear on duty and as she said down opposite Beverly caught a brief hint of the perfume she wore. She could never quite put her finger on what the scent reminded her of – something fresh, fruity, light like a spring rain - it stirred a distant memory she failed to grasp.

“Not trying to buy Romulan Ale from some shady Ferengi merchant are you?” A teasing smirk as Deanna indicated the screen Beverly had just turned off.

She hated how easily she blushed as she felt the heat creep up her neck. For a moment she contemplated lying. She knew that her friend would let it slide but at the same time...it felt wrong. Even though they had only known each other a few months, she already trusted her to the point where she knew that Deanna would not judge her. Would most likely understand better than anyone else.

She bit her lower lip and then cleared her throat. “I've been looking at some open postings at Starfleet Command. Back on Earth.” It didn't sound quite like the dismissive comment she had aimed for.

For someone who could be so astonishingly expressive most of the time – there were moments when it was difficult to decipher Deanna's expressions. Just now, she blinked at Beverly for a surprised moment before she looked down. Smoothing out the fabric on her legs and slowly, oddly deliberately folding her hands in her lap.

“Oh.” Not quite a question.

“It's nothing definitive, just...I'm just... “ A pause. “... after what happened with the Aldeans...” Beverly took a deep breath. “It scared me, Deanna. I can't tell you just how much that scared me.” She couldn't keep the trembling from her voice.

The Betazoid lifted her head again and it was frightening just how much of her own emotions were reflected on Deanna's gentle features. Her black eyes sparkled with hints of tears. And it hit her yet again just how much Deanna experienced vicariously through other people. That she had in fact chosen a profession that would subject her to the emotional and mental chaos of other. All the good times – and all the bad. That she deliberately exposed herself to all that.

Dark brows wrinkled in dismay.

“You know exactly what I was just thinking about, don't you?”

Deanna sighed and leaned back in the chair. Faint traces of the frown still visible. “You were starting to feel sorry for me.”

“It's not...” She tried to find the right words. “...not sorry in the way you might think. I think, for the first time really, I feel like I understand. This.” She moved her hands in a vague gesture between them. “I mean...you are here because you _know_ that Wesley and I talked. That we are okay again. You _know_.”

And despite herself, the realisation was followed closely by a sharp stab of fear of what else Deanna had been aware of and it subsided only slowly. She had known before of course but in this detached, abstract way one has when it seems easier to acknowledge something only to studiously ignore it afterwards. It had been intriguing but somehow not quite real.

“I wasn't intruding.” For the first time since she had known her there was a noticeable hint of defensiveness in Deanna's soft voice. “You both are people I am very familiar with. It makes it far more difficult to ignore intense emotions.”

“No, no...that's not...!” She shook her head quickly. “That's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I just...” She studied her friend in incredulous helplessness. “How do you stay sane?”

Deanna chuckled and then shrugged, failing at keeping a straight face. “How do you know I _am_ sane?”

Laughing together felt good and Beverly felt part of that heaviness inside fade. Maybe it was because of the way Deanna tilted her head and smiled at her with such warmth and acceptance. But then again - she didn't really want to think about the why … she was simply happy to spend the moment with a friend she could laugh with. Everything else, the decisions ahead, could wait until tomorrow.

 


End file.
